Sunday, September 6, 2009

Holding My Baby

A woman gives birth
in this hospital. They put a wristband
on her, the father (if he's around),
and on the baby. All matching wristbands,
with security codes.

The baby gets an ankle band, too,
with a clunky, awkward plastic casing
that houses an electronic device, like the kind
they put on clothes at the mall, and
the cashier takes them off with a special tool
after you pay. The cashier knows
that the clothes rightfully belong to you,
because of the authenticity of your funds,
because the cashier witnessed the exchange
of money and merchandise. You were
also there to verify the transaction.
Everything checked out.

What did a woman give in exchange for
ownership of a baby? Love? Pain?
Neither are recognized legal tender.
Why does hospital policy and local custom
state that a baby belongs to the mother
from which he or she emerged? Perhaps
the baby should stay with an adult
whose credentials are more becoming of a parent,
one who could promise a more profitable return
on that little bundle of human investment?

A parent's claim of custody
makes less sense when you talk about
it with cashiers when they're cashiering.
But if you discuss motherhood and fatherhood
with the people who I love and the people who love me,
(some of who happen to be cashiers)
parenthood feels lovely in the mind
and lovely in the heart.

Better yet, if you stay here with me
in this hospital room, and you see the cross on the wall,
that comforting reminder of our Savior,
and you see the crib, baby blankets and a teddy bear,
if you stay with me and my wife and my baby,
and maybe take a turn or two
holding the baby, things will feel lovely.

Big News

Dear Readers,

On Friday September 4th at 11:27 p.m., at Mercy Gilbert Medical Center, my wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl!

We're all happy and healthy.


Wednesday, September 2, 2009

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!! AGAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNN!!!!

Dear Readers,

I have wonderful news. I am now blogging from the comfort of my own home! Hooray! My wife and I bought a house with 4 bedrooms, a little over 1500 square feet, and we're living in it now for real so things are exciting. Now I don't have to blog from the school where I teach. Those computers act funny because they block lots of stuff... it's like they want teachers and students to use them for educational purposes or something... whatever.

Anywho, so, my job is sometimes like ala-quiff, but sometimes it's pretty cool. I actually cried a lot yesterday afternoon after class and after school. I was in an emotional funk, feeling bad about myself, feeling like I wasted 6 years of my life going to college...

some of those students are very disrespectful to me, to the school, to each other... to the idea of private property... they use bad, bad language... they don't know very much good English stuff and stuff and the way they talk, well sometimes it's quiff, you know? And they don't follow directions and they don't do homework and a lot of them are going to fail and a lot of parents are going to be mad at me maybe because their kids or failing, but I'm just going to say, "Well, you know what? Your kid is ala-swiffern loopern stoopern, Mr. Parent."

And then Mr. Parent will say, "Oh, I perfectly understand you, Mr. Telemoonfa. I'm going to go punish my child so that he behaves better for you." And then I'll say, "Special Fancy!"

I've had quite a few students call home to tell their parents about their quiff behavior. Sometimes calling home improves their behavior, but other times it does not. I just have to get meaner and send lots of students to the principal's office or something. Everyday it's a battle with classroom management. Sometimes I win; sometimes I lose. I think my classroom management problems are karma, you know?

Like, I was a really bad kid in a lot of my high school classes. In English classes, even. I remember one time I brought a yo-yo to school and I kept playing with it in one of my English classes. (I'm pretty awesome fantastic with a yo-yo... ha ha ha not really but sort of you know ha ha ha) Well, my English teacher ended up crying. It was because I hit her in the face with the yo-yo! AND THE YO-YO HAD SPIKES ON IT!!! Ha ha ha, no j/k lol.

But I was disrespectful in a lot of other ways. I remember one time this particular teacher just stopped teaching, went to her desk, and cried, right in the middle of class, and our class kind of felt bad, I think. Yeah, behavior in a lot of American public schools is not that great. Luckily I think I have a pretty supportive administration... they suspend kids, and that's good.

I have a very easy going personality, and I think they can sense that I'm a new teacher, so they try to take advantage of me, and they chew gum when they are not supposed to chew gum, and they lie and say, "No, I'm not chewing gum, Mr. Telemoonfa," and they hide their gum under their tongues or something... and I don't teach too much. Mostly I just say, "Get off the desk. Do this worksheet. Don't talk."

But hey today was a lot better than yesterday. Two girls who were very very bad in my class got suspended for the rest of this week. Hooray! Hopefully they will be better behaved when they return.

Yeah, yesterday... um... after class I googled stuff like, "How much do cashiers at a grocery store make?" Because I was thinking about quitting and getting a different job, but the economy is pretty rough right now, and I don't know if I could get a job at all, even a quiff one, and if I did get a quiff one, then that would be really quiff. What would I do? I have a family to support now. If it was just me, I wouldn't worry about a big salary and benefits and stuff. I would get a quiff job and live in the forest or something.

Anyway... so my new house is really nice. I've never lived in a place where I've had this much square footage to myself. It's weird to think I live here. I just hope we can actually pay the thing off eventually and not get kicked out for not paying our mortgage. But bills add up, you know? They charge you for everything... trash service, Homeowner's Association dues, eletricty, water, phone, internet, homeowner's insurance, car insurance, and lots of stuff.

If we do get kicked out of our house, can we live with you?

You can come live at my house, if you get kicked out of your house. You can at least stay for a week or two or three, you know.

You should come and visit me! I'm lonely in this new town, where I don't know anyone. Although, it might be hard to visit an anonymous blogger who lives in a shroud of mystery in an undisclosed location. If you look for me like - bam - there's only a puff of smoke, you know? And you think I'm there in the shadow, there is some figure there, but you can't make it out, and you shine a flashlight on the darkness, and there is only a big POOF!

The next thing I want to do is meet the neighbors. They live right next door, but I have not made contact with a single one. I've only been in this house for almost 3 days, but still... I want to know who my neighbors are. One of them looked at me for a long time, out of his car window, when he was pulling out of the driveway. Another one sort of looked at me from across the street, and I think I waved at him, and I can't remember if he waved back. But we didn't exchange any words.

Teaching is a tough profession... I'll keep you posted about how it goes... but I've come to respect teachers more, because they really do have a hard job.

Oh, by the way, have you seen my latest sort of posts in the comments section? My computer at school would not let me do new posts, but it let me do comments on this blog, so my latest posts are in the comments, so click on the comments and read the comments because in the comments there's posts there and you really ought to read the posts are pretty good and I can't remember what they're about really but I know one of them is a poem I wrote that maybe I should not have wrote about Ted Kennedy and I kind of feel bad about it, but on the other hand I don't feel that bad about it, but anyway if you would just read everything I ever write on this blog even though it's not always awesome that would be really fantastic and if you would leave comments becasue I need emotional support, then that would be cool, but you can expect to see more cool stuff on Telemoonfa Time like poems and stories and stuff. Well, probably eventually, you know... um... more cool stuff...

OK, see you later.